


Why We Write

by jeaniusbell



Series: Lashton [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2047128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeaniusbell/pseuds/jeaniusbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they're supposed to be writing songs, they're really just writing poems...to each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why We Write

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I didn't think I would be able to write Lashton. I thought I'd blank out on ideas, but I didn't, and I have all these ideas - not that I'll write them all, but whatever. So enjoy this random one.

> **I like the way you sing**
> 
> **And when you do that thing**
> 
> **With your lip ring**

* * *

**A** shton was writing, it was a way he coped with his song writing writer’s block. He was in a room with Luke, it was their time to write a song, but Ashton could not think of anything, so he was writing about the only thing he ever wanted to write about, Luke. Luke with the blue eyes, long – in height – blond hair, the lip ring, the single dimple, except it was not always single, sometimes you could see the second one, and Ashton loved that most, because it meant he was happy.

Like right now, Luke was laughing with one of their other writers – the ones classified as professional, since they have worked with others who are even more famous than they are.

“You’re so funny,” Ashton wanted to laugh, because Luke said a line he would usually see from a girl who pretended he was funny, but he didn’t, but Luke looked like he actually thought that was funny. Like the joke was the most hilarious thing in the world, it was not, or at least to Ashton, it was not.

“Can you two be quiet, I’m trying to think here,” Ashton lied, trying to look like he was actually thinking. He was, but it definitely was not about writing a song, not that he would admit it.

“Oh, sorry,” Luke said, smiling sheepishly, quieting down, before writing something.

* * *

> **I like the way you smile**
> 
> **How we walk more than a mile**
> 
> **I could wait for a while**

* * *

Ashton did not know what he was writing anymore, he was just writing, and trying to rhyme while doing so. He liked how Luke smiled, it was cute, almost childish sometimes. Then, he would do a 360, and suddenly it was some stupid sexy smirk, the one Ashton hated, because he was never the type of guy who liked admitted his feelings aloud, but when Luke smiled – ahem, smirked – like that, he wanted to push him to the floor and just confess his love – ahem, like – to him.

“What are you writing?” And when Luke asked, Ashton made sure to flip the page, to where his half-started intro was written, not that he thought it would work as song, but it would look better than his poem, thing, whatever it was called.

“Uh, it’s the lame start of the song I’m trying to write.” Ashton replied, looking down at his lyrics – which, by the way, looked like they were written by first graders, maybe even, kindergarteners.

“It looks…childish.” Luke admitted, reading the short intro, which definitely was not finished, or barely looked started.

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t know what to write.” Luke only shook his head, sitting down again.

However, Ashton sat there, thinking of how blue Luke’s eyes were. When he knew Luke was not looking over his shoulder, he continued writing his poem.

* * *

> **I like the colour of your eyes**
> 
> **Nearly the same colour of the skies**
> 
> **Or how you like apple pies**
> 
> **Except, you don’t like apple pies**

* * *

Ashton blushed as he wrote, he did not know why, but writing about Luke while Luke was in room, it made him nervous. He could hear pencils, or were they pens, writing on pieces of paper, occasionally, he could hear the noise shift into the sound of drawing, not that Ashton knew how he just knew the difference.

 _Apple pies…Luke doesn’t like that, why am I writing that_ , Ashton thought, ready to scribble that line out – due to writing with pen, instead, he wrote a new line below, correcting his near-mistake.

“Ashy,” Luke mumbled, pushing Ashton’s shoulder slightly, “I’m bored, talk to me, or sing, or something.” Luke was being dramatic, not that Ashton minded, because Luke was cute, and if he could act – properly – he would be wonderful at it. _That made no sense_ , Ashton thought to himself. “I said talk to me, not stare at your paper, I thought you were writing,” The more Luke talked, the more he made his way closer to Ashton, so Ashton flipped his paper again. “What the… You’re still on the same spot.” Luke mumbled, looking down at the paper, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I,” Ashton blushed, trying to come up with a lie, “I couldn’t think of what to write,” Ashton said, it wasn’t fully a lie, because he stopped when he had no idea of what he could write after that, but he wasn’t exactly trying to finish it either.

“I can help you-,” Before Luke could finish his sentence, Ashton shook his head vigorously, “What, why can’t I?” Luke asked.

“Because…I’ve been writing something for someone.” It was not a lie, but Luke did not _need_ to know that Ashton was writing a poem about him, not that Luke should see it – it was not great.

“Oh, is it cute?” Luke asked, his eyes glistening at the sound of writing for someone else, his happy smile was on, and Ashton could see his dimple, his one lonely dimple. Oh no, scratch that, there is two, he’s really happy now. _He would be happier if he knew it was about him_ , Ashton thought to himself.

“Meh,” Ashton blushed, making a weird noise, one he doesn’t hear coming from the back of his mouth a lot, “It’s not great.” Ashton said, shrugging.

“Oh, well, show me when you’re done, I’ll be the judge of that.” Luke said, turning away, going to grab something to drink.

* * *

> **I like your dimple**
> 
> **It is very simple**
> 
> **Or how you don’t care about that pimple**
> 
> **Actually, you do care about that pimple**

* * *

As Ashton thought about Luke’s dimples, mostly how only one was more prominent than the other. He thought about how Luke was actually wearing a beanie today, and he could see Luke’s hair in front, and he wondered why, until he noticed the small red bump, that was also known as a pimple. Ashton cringed, he hated pimples, they hurt, a lot.

“I hate pimples,” Luke said, looking into a mirror, scaring Ashton, because they shared the same thought. “Why do we even get these.” Luke continued talking to himself, in the mirror.

“I think it has to do with hormones,” Ashton said, not noticing he was answering Luke’s rhetorical question, “Like, after you hit puberty, your body reacts with foods more differently, and you get pimples and stuff.” Ashton did not know, but his sentences seemed less…him.

“When did you sound, slightly, smarter?” Luke said, “I mean, like six months ago, you were talking about how tadpoles are baby turtles.” Luke grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t know, I just…said stuff.” Ashton replied, confused with himself.

“You’re so cute,” Luke said, and it looked like he did not noticed he said that, because he continued staring at his pimple.

* * *

> **I like you**
> 
> **You like me too**
> 
> **At least, I hope you do**

* * *

 It was not until seven o’clock at night everyone left, and it was only Luke and Ashton, packing up their stuff.

“Did you finish it?” Luke questioned, “The thing you were writing for someone else?” Luke added, trying to clarify that was what he meant.

“Um, yeah,” Ashton said, hesitantly folding the paper he had previously ripped out of his notebook, “It’s not that good still,” Ashton added, blushing, fumbling with the paper, before he felt the paper drop. He was about to grab it, before he notice it was not on the floor, but in Luke’s hands. “No, don’t…read that.” Ashton said, before he could try stop Luke from reading, Luke was slowly reading the paper.

Ashton didn’t know what would happen when Luke read the paper, but the fact Luke’s pupils were dilating more as he read, was not something he thought he’d see. Ashton blushed the more he saw Luke’s eyes wander down toward the bottom of the page.

“It’s cute,” Luke mumbled, his cheeks seemed to match Ashton’s blush. “Um, is it about me?” Luke asked, handing the paper back to Ashton, but it had slipped out of his hands, and he blushed even more. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit flustered…” Luke mumbled, grabbing the paper again, only to bump into Ashton’s head – as he was also trying to grab the paper. “Sorry,” Luke apologized again.

“You’re apologizing a lot,” Ashton giggled, rubbing his forehead softly, “And you’re cute,” Ashton added, making Luke blush. “Can I just take the poem back…and burn it maybe.” Ashton said, rubbing his forehead, while holding out his free hand to grab the paper.

“No,” Luke said sternly, “I mean…I want to keep it.” Luke confessed, blushing, and stuffing the paper in his jean’s pockets. “It’s too cute to let burn.”

“Oh, um,” Ashton stammered, flustered, “You can keep it, I’ll just try to forget how embarrassing this was.” Ashton mumbled.

“No, it’s not,” Ashton was confused, until he saw Luke strut towards his notebook, ripping a piece of paper from it. “Here, I wrote this for you.” Luke mumbled.

* * *

> **Ashton,**
> 
> **There’s not a ton**
> 
> **That rhymes with your name**
> 
> **So that was lame**
> 
> **But just your name**
> 
> **Doesn’t make me feel the same**
> 
> **Because you’re much more**
> 
> **You’re someone I adore**
> 
> **And I like your dimples**
> 
> **It’s very simple**
> 
> **But they make me smile**
> 
> **For too much of a while**
> 
> **And your giggle**
> 
> **And your cute wiggle**
> 
> **Are both too cute**
> 
> **To be on mute**
> 
> **That didn’t make sense**
> 
> **But when did I ever make sense?**
> 
> **Your eyes, are so hazel**
> 
> **I want to gazel**
> 
> **That’s not a word**
> 
> **I’m just a turd**
> 
> **I think so at least**
> 
> **This was supposed to be romantic**
> 
> **But I cannot romance**
> 
> **And I’m not going to rhyme anymore**
> 
> **But I like you more**
> 
> **I lied**
> 
> **But I tried**

* * *

 Ashton giggled as he read the poem, which was almost as terrible as his was, but it was cute, nonetheless.

“Aww, Lukey, you’re adorable.” Ashton cooed, hugging Luke, nuzzling his head into Luke’s chest, enjoying the sweet gestures that he just read. “I can’t believe we did the same thing…” Ashton mumbled.

“Is this why we don’t write songs together?” Luke questioned, “Do we always not write together?” Luke mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around Ashton.

“I think so,” Ashton mumbled, “But I liked the poem…” Ashton smiled against Luke’s chest. “We should write for each other more often.” Ashton whispered, almost as if Luke was the only one to hear – which was silly, because it was only them.

“We should.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote those two, fairly, lame poems, and I'm sorry about that?


End file.
